DIAMOND GIRL
by postscriptress
Summary: There's a lot of reasons why Chiyo "Sakura" Hori isn't supposed to get married to Mikoto Mikoshiba, some of them being, as follows: she still has to finish her masters', come to terms with her terribly one-sided crush on Umetaro Nozaki, and look for that sweet guy from her childhood who once called her a princess...if only she can remember who he was.


The first time he ever lied, Mikoto Mikoshiba had been all of eight years old.

"Aw, c'mon, Mikorin." The dark-haired girl had said back then, pulling at his wrist so he couldn't go away. "Just this once?"

"First of all: no." The redheaded boy had all but spat out, trying to wrench himself free of his sister's grip with admirable force. "Second of all: Yu, would you _please_ stop calling me '_Mikorin_'?"

"Nah. If I did, then what choice would I have left to use when referring to my precious little brother?" Yu drawled, pulling on said precious brother so they now lay side-by-side on the fluffy bed.

"Call me '_Mikoto_', at least. That's my actual name, yanno." Mikoto huffed, sitting up, swatting at his sister's fingers - which were attempting to tickle the hell out of him. He then crossed his arms and tried very much to pull the disappointed face their dad would always pull when they did things like keep the cookie jars in their closet or stay up late sharing ghost stories well after their bedtime. As Mikoto happens to have their father's coloring and their mother's fine-boned features, however...

"See, that right there! You'd make a _perfect_ heroine, Mikorin!"

"Thank you - wait, what part exactly are you gonna make me go as here? I thought you were the prince, Yu? And like _hell_ am I gonna be the heroine!"

"Aw, too bad, you would've been cute in the dress," Yu whined, her mouth in a frankly endearing pout. "Cuter than _Chicchan_, even."

"Tsch - fine, whatever, okay? I'll go." Mikoto sighed, knowing even then that no matter what he does, he'll never be immune to his sister's puppy-dog eyes. "But why am I wearing this wig again?"

"Like I said - your hair obviously screams '_Mikoshiba_'." Yu had said, sitting up to fix the wig on tighter over her brother's head. "Just like our dad and grandpa and great-grandpa and too many forefathers to count. And after all the effort I've done so _Senpai_ could only know me as '_Kashima_' - if he knew I was related to the Mikoshiba heir, my cover would be blown, I'd lose all my friends, _Senpai_ would hate me, and my life would be but an empty shell of what it had become -!"

"You're overreacting."

"I'm telling the truth! Believe me, Mikorin, you don't know how things could get out there."

And she was right - Mikoto didn't. Where Yu had pleaded and cajoled their parents to have her go to grade school as "_Kashima_" - their mother's surname, still reasonably wealthy but not as eye-catching as their legal, billion-dollar-worth Mikoshiba - Mikoto had to be cajoled, in turn, just so he could turn up to his daily tutorials. Where Yu thrived on the applause and attention of her peers (of some unnamed "_senpai_" of hers, in particular), Mikoto lived for his alone time, for the hours he spent holed up in his and Yu's shared room playing video games, tending to their balcony garden, reading the fairytale romance novels Yu kept leaving behind.

"Then why do I have to go and do this thing anyway?"

"...because I'm your big sister, and you love me?"

"I _don't_."

"Aw, you wound me, darling," Yu had said, pressing a hand to her heart in mock-agony. "And not just because you say such ill words, but because you didn't even make an effort at lying."

"Eugh, whatever."

"Anyway, seeing as I've got _this_ and all, it doesn't seem like I've got a choice," Yu sighed, nodding towards the gigantic cast obscuring one of her pale, long legs.

She had just told Mikoto and their parents that she had just '_fallen off a box_', which, considering her somewhat-flighty nature, had yet to set off any alarm bells. But the truth was, Yu had _wandered_ off a little too off stage while watching her _senpai_ perform - something no one needs to know, least of all Senpai himself. The look on _Senpai's_ face when he had seen Yu in the cast had been a picture-perfect look of pure anguish, and Yu would've applauded at the sight had he not looked so close to tears.

(Said tears were scrubbed up angrily, covered up with a handkerchief as he ran hurriedly out her hospital room, and were almost gone by the time he had shoved a package of baby castella into Yu's surprised face.)

(Yu's favorite food has been baby castella ever since.)

"Can't you just, I dunno, get someone else to fill in for you? Like, say, your mysterious, beloved '_Senpai_', if he's so good an actor?"

"...Senpai isn't _mysterious_."

Had Mikoto been a couple years older, he would've had the foresight to say something about how his elder sister did not do anything to protest again the notion of this Senpai being Yu's '_beloved_'. But he isn't, so he lets this slide clean over his head without a second look. He'll eventually end up regretting it later.

"You know _Senpai_ can't play this role either. He _tried_, of course, as soon as _this_ happened, but - well, Chicchan's his little sister. Having on-screen romantic chemistry with your real-life, _actual_ little sister would be weird."

"Anyone else, then? Anyone else who is, I dunno, not the girl's brother, who isn't me?" Mikoto blurted out, wringing his hands, seemingly grasping for straws. "Any other guys from your class?"

"Well...I _did_ try asking Nozaki -"

"_Nozaki_? As in Mayu-kun's brother?"

"Yep, that's the one! But he said something I can't understand about working better unseen, and Senpai said his acting was as exciting as '_watching paint peel_'..."

"Harsh."

"True, though. Anyway, Nozaki already wrote the play to begin with, so he doesn't want to be any more involved in the play as he already is. No one else in my class stands out though, I'm afraid." Yu mused, looking up at her brother with a curious expression. "I think you should take it, Mikorin."

"But there'll be..._people_. And _cameras_ and stuff." Mikoto said, drawing his legs into his chest and sinking his face into his knees. "I can't do this, Yu. I'm sorry. I keep thinking I can, but...I _can't_. I really can't , and I'm sorry."

Yu takes one look at her brother and his quivering self, his scrunched up eyes, his cheeks lit up by an embarrassed flush, and decides to tuck his cute little super-worried self into the curve of her arm. "Hey, Mikorin. You wanna know what the best thing about acting is?"

"What, making a fool outta yourself in front of people?"

"No, silly," Yu croons, pressing a kiss to her little brother's hair. "It's the chance to be someone other than who you really are. To be able to live out someone else's life. Isn't that what you always do in your favorite video games anyway? Living out an alternate life?"

"..."

"Also, I promise to treat you to burgers after."

"Yeah, fine, okay, I'll do it. Go start from that line again."

"Yessir, Mikorin sir."

* * *

The first thing Mikoto thinks when he sees his co-star for the first time is '_crap, she's hella cut_e'.

Or at least the G-rated, age-applicable version of it.

"It's nice to be working with you, mister," the little girl says, smiling up at him, with a cute little doll face and a smile like sunshine, completely ignorant of the fact that Mikoto's sweating bullets under an uncomfy dark wig and Yu's stage clothes, which both hang awkwardly off him.

"Y-yeah, it's my honor to work with you too," Dear heavens, why is she just so cute, with her little ribbons and chubby cheeks, and why does Mikoto's voice have to be all high and squeaky around her, oh my gosh, they've just met. They've just met. This is not supposed to happen. Mikoto is just eight years old, for crying out loud. And the girl, barely reaching his shoulders, ribbons on either side of her head, obviously doesn't look any older.

Not as if that makes any difference in the grander scheme of things, where Mikoto is still stuck thinking about her and her cuteness.

"How's Kashima-_neechan_ doing?"

Mikoto almost does a double take upon hearing his mother's maiden name, trying to reconcile how this cute little girl could've known of his mother, and if so what this would mean for his cover, only for him to remember Yu's cover, in turn.

Oh, right. She's '_YuKashima_', here.

"She's fine, yeah. A bit wobbly on her feet, but yeah, she's getting better overall." Better enough to go and start lording over him with a script in hand, even. The past few days had been grueling, with his sister's bedside crash course to acting. But Mikoto doesn't think he'd have been confident enough to go perform without all that training. "She's in the audience, I think."

"Mm-hm. Probably with _oniichan_," the little girl says, tugging at her coat with renewed vigor, fiddling with her oversized prop glasses. The script said she was supposed to be the shrewd journalist to Yu's (now Mikoto's) ingénue runaway prince, and those glasses were supposed to be her hidden cameras. Right now, though, she just looks too cute to sneak around anyone, too earnest to be anything but trusted. "_Oniichan_ was sooooo worried about her, so I think he'd be fussing over her right now."

"Oh, right, you're the sister of that _senpai_ she always talks about," Mikoto mumbles, mostly to himself, fully aware that aside from their siblings who know each other (and apparently talk about each other a lot, wow, is that supposed to mean something?), they don't have much in the way of conversation topics, and its just too bad. It's too bad because now Mikoto wants to talk with her more, wants to exchange jokes with her and hear her laugh and stuff. It's too bad because now here's his chance to have a friend who is _not_ Mayu-kun (who, while being a great friend, still sleeps too much for Mikoto's liking), and he can't even do anything because his tongue's all tied up and his heart's beating like a freaking marching band.

"Have you acted before?"

"N-nah, this is my first time," Mikoto blurts out, hating how that little tremble got into his voice. As if he wasn't gonna embarrass himself enough, he just had to stutter in front of the girl he likes - wait, _likes_? Isn't this just a bit too soon? "Yu - I mean, _Kashima_ \- I'm doing this as a favor to her."

"Whoa, you _are_ close! I don't think I've seen anyone call her by her first name before," the little girl says. "She must be like family to you, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." And she is like family, in the sense that she actually_ is _family. The kind of family who takes up all space on the bed and nabbing all the covers. Will wonders never cease. "We're pretty close. We grew up together and all."

"Aw, that's so _cute_!" There's a hint of matchmaker to her tone now, and hearing that now Mikoto gets where the casting decision for her came from. Cute baby girl can be shrewd as _hell_. "I'm not sure what to make of you being _oniichan's_ love rival, though."

"Me? In love with Yu? Please, honey." The bad thing about being left to one's devices with a bunch of daytime soaps and sappy romance novels is that when Mikoto doesn't talk carefully, he ends up talking like a main character off one of them. Terms of endearment and all. He thinks that this means the universe really hates him. "The only person that sister of mine would ever have her eyes on is this '_senpai_' person, so your bro's gonna be fine. As for me, I like cute girls like _you_, so it's no contest, really."

It's only when the girl's cheeks flush beet red that Mikoto realizes - _oh no, I did just say that out loud, didn't I. Oh no no no._

Seconds pass by, unnoticed and unwanted, and Mikoto's already considering if he could burrow a hole large enough for him to climb into and die while wearing all this fancy clothing, before the little girl speaks again.

"Um. You really think I'm cute?"

By now, Mikoto's cheeks are red enough to be seen from outer space, but he still nods eagerly and manages to smile a not-so-manic grin. He'd like to leave it at that, but the thing about his autopilot mode is this: he _cannot_ stop. _Ever_. And the more he wants to stop - wants to shut up in front of doting aunties and adoring housemaids and pretty actress princesses with ribbons in their hair - the more he _can't_, the more the words he speak eventually fail him.

"You're the cutest thing I've ever seen. Why, wrapped up in that fetching little frilly coat of yours, I daresay you look as delectable as a decorated cake in a fancy shop window..." _Oh god oh no why is he saying these things why can't he shut up _**_why is this his life._**"...little Princess."

Exactly two nanoseconds after utterance of those damning words Mikoto flushes beet red to the very tips of his ears. He has no way of actually testing it for real, but he thinks by now they've generated enough heat to be able to fry eggs off of.

For a five-year-old slip of a little girl, though, she takes those words better than she did his earlier blurted out admission of adoration. "Ah. I can _totally_ see how you're friends with Kashima-_neechan_ now." she deadpans, favoring him with an amused, tight-lipped smile, before turning at the sound of a brunet guy rapping a rolled-up bundle of papers against the wall. "I guess that's my cue then. See you on stage!"

She leaves him then, in a flurry of fluffy coat and noisy shoes, leaving Mikoto with nothing but his embarrassed thoughts and the brunet guy from earlier. Mikoto's about to do breathing exercises and recall his lines, the things Yu told him to do to stave off his stage fright, but the other guy speaks.

"Kid. You're Kashima's friend, right?"

Mikoto nods, mind too busy wrapping itself around its own terror to do anything more complicated like form _actual spoken words._

"Listen. I know you're a kid and all, but when we spoke, Kashima spoke really highly of you."

Of course she'd butter him up. She has to. Number one: he's her brother. Number two: him filling in for her is _her_ idea in the first place. So Mikoto goes the modest route and ducks his head, shyly smiles and says "She was being too nice."

"Fiddlesticks and nonsense. I heard you practice earlier. Need a little bit of work, but I think you'll be fine." the man says, a friendly hand on Mikoto's shoulder, a cheerful grin on his face. "Yeah, I think you can pull this off."

"Th-thank you, sir!" _Mikoto_ blurts out. He doesn't care if the fact that he's this close to tearing up is unmanly - the point is that this is a senpai from Yu's drama club, and he doesn't think Mikoto will mess this up, and that's a big thing. It's a big thing, especially for an eight year old who's still afraid of the dark.

The other man smiles, once more - but then his face clouds over for some reason, and his loose grip on Mikoto's shoulder tightens. "_But_."

"Er...but?

"How old are you? Seven?"

"Eight," Mikoto replies, feeling oddly defensive for some reason, adding his next words with an intensity only wrongly-aged children ever feel the need to have. "And _ten months_."

"Okay, then." The other man shrugs. "Whatever. Point is, you're a kid."

"Yeah...?" Of _course_ he's just a kid? Was this supposed to be that much of a surprise?

"But that doesn't mean I am gonna just sit back and do nothing while you flirt with _my little_**_ sister_**." the brunet says, liquid amber eyes boring holes into Mikoto's terrified soul.

"U-understood, sir."

"_Good_." The man says, before the sudden darkness dissipates from his eyes, and his expression regains its former jocularity. "There's your cue now. Break a leg."

Mikoto walks, and prays that Yu's _senpai_ actually did mean to use that as a metaphor.

.

.

**Original AO3 Link: /works/2487854**


End file.
